His Favorite Color
by Sleepyreader13
Summary: Even across the Great Hall he can seem them. Set in the face of a girl he knows he'll never have, eyes that catch his at any distance. He knows he'll have to settle with side along glances at his most favorite color. One-sided Draco x Hermione. One-shot. Rated for feelings and witnessing a kiss.


A/N- I realize I haven't been in this section for about 5 months. (Including my story, which is being redone, but will be updated very soon.)

And, I've never dabbled with this couple. Never. I didn't even really work with it before this idea came to me. So, if I did this wrong, I'm sorry.

Warning- One-sided Dramione.

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Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

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The Great Hall was crowded. Masses of student sat at their tables while others walked around, benches screeched against the floor as multiple people pulled them this way and that, people talked and laughed and ate, but out of all of this, he only noticed one. He could see her face even through the crowd of people. He swore he could hear her laugh as she looked at Potter. He could almost smell the scent of parchment and springtime that seemed to come off her in waves. He clenched his fist under the table at the way Weasley pulled her closer to him, and couldn't repress the shudder that worked its way through him when her whiskey colored eyes warmed.

Out of everything going on in the Hall, he only noticed her.

He noticed everything. The way her hair had never really lost the bushiness, but had still calmed to honey colored waves. The way she blushed pink when Weasley wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. The way she laughed was like a drug; he just couldn't stop listening to it. Her heart shaped face filled his mind. The way she moved. The way she walked. The way she looked. The way her curves looked in anything she wore. He noticed everything.

Something like ice exploded in his chest when she leaned over and covered Weasley's lips with hers. It was like someone had dug a frozen blade into his heart when they stayed like that, and only the complaints of Potter and Weasley's sister made them pull away. It killed him to know it was Weasley that made her already full lips just a tint darker. It was illogical of course. She wasn't pureblood. His father would disown him and his mother wouldn't be able to do a single thing about it. Previously she would have been "Mudblood", but after the war, blood status didn't mean as much to him.

Purebloods were killed that night too. Fate didn't seem to care what quality your blood was in the battle. Death didn't give a darn about blood status.

She shook her head, curls bouncing around her face. She looked at Weasley, and her pink lips pulled into a smile that showed her teeth. He swore he could hear her giggling.

"Draco?" A dark skinned hand was waved in front of his face, "Earth to Draco?"

He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, and focused on his friend, "Yeah, Blaise?"

Blaise cocked an eyebrow at him, sending a glance over his shoulder towards the Gryffindor table, but didn't make any reaction other than the smirk he sent Draco's way.

"You know, Draco, I've known you for somewhere around seven years, been through countless battles with you, but with everything we've discussed, I still don't know your favorite color." Blaise said, smirking as he sent a glance over Blaise's shoulder at the Gryffindor table.

He sighed, "Does it really matter?"

Blaise laughed, shaking his head at the distracted boy in front of him. "You already know mine, Malfoy, its green. What's yours?"

He looked completely past the boy in front of him now, eyes solely focused on the honey haired beauty on the other side of the Hall. He could see them from here, her eyes, and they made him tingle and shudder in the right ways. The warm whiskey color set in her pale skin, the way they lit up with she laughed, and the dark flecks of gold you could only see if you were close enough to her. She seemed to have the longest lashes in the word, and they only proved to outline her unique eyes. He could look at them for hours. Days even. But, he had a question to answer.

He looked back at Blaise, glanced back across the Hall to find that those beautiful eyes of whiskey were closed and her pale pink lips were on Weasley's again. He clenched his teeth, and forced his eyes away.

"Whiskey," He said to his dark haired friend, "The color of whiskey."

Blaise glanced over his shoulder again, looked him in the eye, shook his head, and laughed quietly. Blaise knew just as well as he did that he'd never truly get to stare into those whiskey colored pools in his lifetime.

He knew he'd always have to settle for side along glances at his most favorite color.

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So, how did I do?


End file.
